


Been Saving it All For You

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Established Relationship, Fingering, First Time, First Time Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 20:12:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9341357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: anon requested spones+first time together





	

“Spock,” fuck his voice is wavering, that’s ridiculous; he’s not a virgin, he has a _child_ for fuck’s sake. And yet—and yet! Here he is on all fours, looming, shaking like a new born deer, voice rattling like a bag of bones. He swallows his nerves, clears his throat, then tries again.

“Spock—!” Not any better since his voice _cracks_. A single syllable word and his voice cracks in the dead center. Mortification hits him like a sea breeze (soft, hardly harsh, no less embarrassing,) and he nearly flees.

A soft and gentle hand on his cheek halts him. “Leonard.” Spock’s voice is quiet, tender—like his touch—and shaking, too. Spock tilts his head slightly and smiles at Leonard. His hair is getting long, McCoy notes. The edges are still sharp and straight, but his hair is longer, glossier, falls across the pillow and Spock’s forehead. “Leonard,” Spock murmurs again with his thumb still tracing the line of McCoy’s jaw. Spock licks his lips after speaking, bites his own lip.

McCoy groans, because if _that_ isn’t the absolute picture of debauchery, he doesn’t know what is. He leans down and presses his forehead to Spock’s. “Sorry,” he grumbles. “I don’t know…”

Spock shakes his head. “There is nothing to apologize for, Leonard.” Spock inches up and brushes a kiss against McCoy’s chapped lips. “Take all the time you need. I am not going anywhere.” Spock grins again, the whites of his teeth peeking through his lips.

McCoy nods. He swallows again, nods again, then reaches for the lube again. He pulls back from Spock—still shaking, god when did his knees get so weak? He pulls back and smears the lube across three fingers. He tosses the bottle aside and brings his quaking fingers between Spock’s legs.

“You sure, darling?”

“I am, if you are.” Spock never stops staring, eyes wide and brown, deep, boring into him. “If you are not, I am not.”

McCoy looks down and revels in the surge of arousal that beats against him like a wave: his slick fingers hovering near Spock’s flushed green skin, the darker green of his rim. “Fuck.”

“Leonard?”

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” McCoy waits until Spock nods, then brings a single fingertip to Spock’s hole. He presses in slowly, shuddering at the warmth, the rhythmic way Spock tightens around his digit. “Fuck, Spock.”

Spock keens. His hands have since fallen from gently touching McCoy’s face and instead are knotted up in the sheets. His legs spread wider and he arches his back—McCoy watches, mesmerized—as though to take the intrusion in deeper. McCoy moves his finger carefully; he draws entirely out, then presses back in again, over and over until Spock breathes out a barely-there,

_“More.”_

McCoy chokes on his next inhale but obliges. On the thrust, he slides a second finger alongside the first. He goes in even slower than before and admires the obscene way Spock’s hips writhe in response. Spock’s head is tossed to the side but his eyes are still trained on Leonard, unrelenting, all while he rolls his hips desperately. McCoy pushes in deep and crooks his fingers and watches as Spock’s entire body lights up.

His back arches so tight it looks painful, and his legs pull in and trap McCoy between them; his mouth drops open and a shout tumbles from his lips. Distantly McCoy catches the sound of the sheets ripping as Spock pulls at them, but he’s more entranced by the gasps coming endless from his lover.

“Leonard,” Spock groans. “More,” he pleads again.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, Spock.” McCoy, with great effort, forces himself to look away from Spock’s face to instead examine where their bodies are joined. Spock’s skin is flushed, green and lively, relaxed and taking his fingers so easily.

“You will not hurt me. _More_.” Spock glares at Leonard but doesn’t move; he leaves his body open and inviting, expectant, all McCoy’s for the taking. “Please.”

McCoy coughs, dissolves into a disbelieving groan. He pulls out his two fingers and returns with three, mind swimming with need as Spock accepts him so easily. He sinks in, as though Spock’s body is pulling him closer. He can’t help himself when he falls forward and presses his face into the juncture of Spock’s neck and shoulders. His fingers never cease, only shifting to crook and wring another explosion of moans from the Vulcan.

“Spock, talk t’me darling, tell me how it feels.”

Spock levels him with a flushed, lusty, yet unimpressed stare. “I hardly think that is necessary, Leonard.”

McCoy laughs, surprised. “Yeah, s’pose you’re right.” Spock’s body is singing for him, _Spock_ is singing for him, just about. “Humor me?” He kisses at the corner of Spock’s mouth, words spoken right against warm skin.

“It feels good,” Spock replies tightly. “Different, but—good.” Spock’s blush burns worse and McCoy drinks in the heat as it rebounds off his own sweat-sticky skin. “Leonard.” It’s a whine, a soft keen, needy and embarrassed.

McCoy shushes Spock with a kiss. “Alright, alright,” he agrees. He pulls his fingers out and makes quick work of slicking up his cock with lube. “You sure? I could make you come first, with m’fingers.”

Spock’s breathing hitches. He reaches up and grips McCoy’s bicep, nails digging into flesh. “As agreeable as that sounds, I would prefer it if…” He swallows, McCoy watches his adams apple bob with the motion. “If you were to _fuck_ me.” Spock exhales sharply, exhilarated, eyes bright. “Now.”

McCoy’s head is spinning—nothing, _nothing_ will ever be better than hearing that sweet, sensual four-letter word coming from Spock’s luscious lips. He blinks through the haze of arousal, nodding wildly, takes his dick by the base and guides it to Spock’s stretched, wet hole. “Okay, okay,” he mutters. He can’t stop looking between their bodies and Spock’s face, can’t decide which view is better.

Spock takes him by the chin and forces their eyes to meet. _“Now.”_


End file.
